Remember when you were a kid, and sometimes, when playing a game, you would ask for (and even get) a do-over?

Overall, I’m pretty happy about how I’ve done, and am doing, but there are moments I remember that I wish I could just, well, do over. You know, like:

The time I canceled going to the theater with a dear friend, and then I did not get to see him again before he passed.

The classes I skipped in college and grad school…I wonder now what I might have learned that I did not.

The stupid choice I made in spending so much time on the Evil Ex (and on other men in my past).

The friendships I left behind.

The many times I was inadvertently – or intentionally – unkind to my mother. I wish I could hug her one more time, knowing everything I know now, and tell her how much the all-too-short time we had together means to me.

But more importantly, there are the things I would not do over. There are so many more of these than the reverse, especially:

The things that made me laugh…or even smile.

The time I spend with my family, both good and bad.

Taking risks on people, even (sometimes especially) when they don’t work out.

Every time I said “I love you” to someone…and meant it.

But while I do believe that there should be no regrets, and especially, no excuses – that every decision you make is the best one you can make at the time – that does not mean you would make those same decisions again.

Like this:

I have this guy friend who is absolutely sure that because I am single, I am lonely. No matter how often I try to explain to him the difference between “alone” and “lonely”, he just doesn’t buy it. One day, I even got the “you’ll end up old and lonely if you don’t find a guy now” speech, which, after I picked my jaw up off the floor, I countered by pointing out that even if I had a guy now, I would not necessarily have one when I am “old”. Or even tomorrow.

I mean, seriously, I was never so lonely as when the Evil Ex was in my life. He was living in my apartment, sleeping in my bed at night and on my couch all day – and I was completely lonely. All. The. Time. Lonely is not a function of who’s in the room.

Yes, I choose to be alone at times – maybe more than most people. And other times, I choose not to be. And, yes, sometimes I am lonely. But more often than not, I’m loneliest in a crowd.

And then I wonder if this could be one of those gender-linked things. In my limited experience, women are “better” at being alone than men, and don’t equate being alone to either loneliness, or that other “joke” that I’ve heard “Loser, Party of One”. Even better, you should hear some of the comments I get (mainly from men – most women think it’s cool) when someone finds out I go on vacation by myself on occasion.

To those that disagree: Please, feel free to try to ensure you’re never alone, and to believe that that will mean you will never be lonely. I hope it works for you, I really do.

Me? I’ll just continue to muddle along, enjoying my own company and, sometimes, that of others. Maybe you. If you’re really, really lucky.